April 10th - ???
No, he didn't want to jump right into it. He wanted to wake up and forget any of this ever happened. He didn't care about his 'potential' or corrupted people or anything, he just wanted one of them to drag him out of this hell already before those hands came back. Mira just reinforced what Daigo already knew; they couldn't even hurt that thing, they'd just have to play damsel in distress until Hoshino handled it. He hated being powerless, he never knew what to feel or how to act in that situation. His eyes stung, but he knew he shouldn't cry - no one else was crying. It wasn't his failure to cry over, he was simply a victim of unfortunate circumstance, as usual.
He forced an uneasy smile.
"Please take care of us, then." It sounded lame even to him. The redhead trailed along with the group as they moved, wringing his hands together in a constant nervous fidget to stop himself from outright clinging to Genki. Maybe that girl - Sasaki, right; she gave her name - would play with his hair again if he asked. No, he'd just look pathetic if he did. The shadows that descended from the ceiling shortly after left any hopes of comfort unfulfilled anyway.
Mouths were even worse than hands; hands would drag him off to some dark corner, but these shadows left no question whether or not he'd be eaten if they got to him. He was nothing but a burden here. The only act he could manage was to not break down again, no matter how much he wanted to. Hoshino seemed agitated enough that he had to protect them, he'd only start to resent the fiery-haired boy if he had to stop and comfort him every time he was spooked too. Demon or not, Daigo really didn't want his new friend to hate him after only a day. It was easier to just pretend he was coping well enough.
As a shadow swooped past, Daigo finally collapsed on his ass in his best attempt at fleeing. Luckily for him, the creature refocused on the more pressing threat as Noriaki sliced one of its brethren in half. The redheaded teen turned and crawled away on his hands and knees as he sucked in shallow breaths, fighting back tears the whole time. He probably didn't have enough air in his lungs to start wailing that he didn't want to die. Maybe they'd call him brave at his funeral.
That face you wear doesn't suit you.
A voice that sounded almost like his own reverberated through Daigo's head, each syllable rattling in tune with a throb of sudden pain in his skull. The boy clamped a hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut on instinct, curling in on himself on the floor. Was this the demon hand's doing? Or one of those mouth things? He dared a glimpse back up at his surroundings, his eyes now alight with a familiar golden hue. At least the mouths hadn't begun circling him like a pack of hungry dogs yet, but that was a small comfort.
Your mask is a poor imitation of the real thing; you don it only because you believe you have no recourse but to meet your bitter fate with dignity. That forced optimism will offer no solace to you. To do nothing in the face of calamity is to reject every outcome more favorable. Even if your demise is assured, the other self within you longs to discard the facade and resist to the very end.
The second bout of speech forced his eyes closed again in a futile attempt to alleviate his headache. Renewed nausea followed, which caused Daigo to instinctively clamp a hand over his mouth and left only a wobbly arm to support his slumped-over torso - not that he could bring himself to even sit up. What did the voice even mean? He had no choice but to cower behind Hoshino, unless it thought suicide was preferable to whatever those hands wanted to do to him.
But are all endings not also beginnings? The hour of creation draws near; the moment where vapid echoes of possibility may be actualized from nothingness. The cycle cannot be broken, yet each morning brings the promise of something new. Will you hold to this pitiful course as all you hold dear fades into the night? Or do you possess the resolve to seize the day, knowing your radiance may still be extinguished come twilight?
When he peeked an eye open again, Daigo was greeted with an unexpected visitor; a butterfly, glowing an ethereal blue. The insect descended listlessly to the ground and perched just within arm's reach.
That was what started it all. That damn butterfly. William, Mira; they were all connected somehow, they all tricked him into a fate he didn't want. Daigo reached out tenderly at first, a pleading hand extended to beg the little creature to save him. His limb paused just before they touched. It was this thing's fault. It led him to the mirror on purpose. The cat might've wanted Noriaki, but this
thing had wanted all of them in here. It wasn't salvation, it was just taunting him in his final moments. Steeling the rest of his resolve, Daigo forcefully slammed his hand down to crush the butterfly underpalm. It didn't feel like he'd just splattered a bug into paste. It didn't feel like anything but the ground, as if he'd imagined that anything appeared in front of him at all. Even so, he hoped the little bastard had felt even a fraction of the pain reverberating through the ginger's skull.
A genuine face at last. Very well. Let us begin the contract.
I am thou, thou art I.
If thou hast chosen this dawn to begin anew,
let thine emergence from thy false shell pierce this darkness
and stand astride the world as the brightest light of all!
The pain shooting through Daigo's head ceased immediately as he curled his fist around the butterfly he'd crushed. But it was no longer a butterfly; it was a key - the key from that weird dream, from that damn contract that dragged him into this mess. A card laid on the ground before him, depicting a sun with a face on it. It didn't interest him; he knew what he had to do now. Daigo rose to his feet calmly, despite the shadows now closing in on the easy prey.
The key felt smaller in his hand now, lighter. It wasn't a key. It was a match now. He didn't question it, just struck it along his sleeve to produce an unnatural flame of the same cyan hue as the butterfly. Daigo extended the match out toward the encroaching shadows, letting his eyes briefly follow the hypnotic dance of the fire rather than size up the foes before him.
"Carve a path," His mind supplied a name as surely as he knew his own,
"Khepri." He dropped the match with the intuitive knowledge it would land right where he desired - right on the sun card. It caught with the same turquoise flame as the match, which smouldered only a moment before the whole card flared in an inferno that engulfed Daigo utterly. A horned figure rose out of the blaze, all sharp points and chitinous armor, glaring down at the shadows before it as intensely as the sun beats down upon the desert at noon. Daigo swept his arm aside as the looming creature mirrored him, dispersing the pyre around them in a single gesture.
The boy stood now in archaic clothing, his hair catching the light in all the colors of the sunrise as it shifted in the updraft of the supernatural flames. Gold-trimmed black lamellar, reminiscent of samurai of old and emblazoned with a prominent orange sunburst across the breastplate, rested over a dark
shitagi that clung to his form despite its bagginess. Daigo was still hardly the picture of a fierce warrior; the cuirass lacked spaulders and provided nothing to hide his narrow shoulders, and his glasses still framed his face as boyish and unthreatening, though the rims had darkened a few shades. Nevertheless, there was a determination in his eyes that promised he wouldn't stop until he'd reached some far-off goal, as if the enemies before him were negligible obstacles that could be bypassed effortlessly.
A mote of light burned to life inbetween the forked horns of the Persona at Daigo's back, and its elytra spread angelically like wings about to take flight. A thin beam shot forward from the glowing ball above its head that seared a trail in the ground as it swept right through a shadow before him, which left the bisected halves of the monster to fall to the ground in a sizzling heap before dissolving back into the formless goo they'd originated from. Daigo then took an assertive step forward and Khepri responded, gaining altitude as golden flames burst forth from beneath its elytra like thrusters on a rocket.
@Asura@RiverMaiden@Lord Orgasmo
